Numbness
by ren.the.otaku
Summary: Clary is on a destructive path and Jace is trapped in a life he loathes. Can the two save each other from themselves? M for drug use, self-harm and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1 - two different worlds

**Hey everyone! I'm ren, and this is the first piece of fanfiction i have written that i actually feel okay with posting. This is just the beginning, but i thought it would be enough to start with and i promise at least another [much longer] chapter later tonight! This being my first piece i would absolutely love some feedback and feel free to be as critical as you want, i can take it :P **

**disclaimer; these character belong entirely to cassandra clare, who i am not. **

**warning; this is rated M for a reason. If you cannot handle self-harm, drug use and sexual content, you may not want to read this.**

_**Clary's point of view.**_

Clary laid back on her black pillow, crimson hair billowing out on the cloth, the color of blood. She closed her big, cat-like green eyes and enjoyed the warm numbness that was overtaking her from the Percocets she took. She lived her life for these little pleasures.

_what else do i have to live for?_ She thought. She turned her head to scan her teeny apartment from her bed. The walls were red. She loved red, like blood and the carpets were a dingy white color. The walls were plastered with her work. She was what others would probably call a "starving artist". She was 22 and had made it halfway through art school at NYU before her parents died and the money for school did too. Now she was working at sketchy club called Pandemonium so she could eat and pay the rent on this shithole. Aside from being small, her apartment was in a dangerous part of the city and five floors up, with no elevator. The only upside of living and working in sketchy places was the fact that her drug supply never ran dry, there were endless back alley drug dealers willing to get you whatever you wanted if you had the money and kids at the club who had stolen from their parents medicine cabinets. Percocets were her favorite, but she would settle for whatever narcotics she could get, they were the only thing, besides cutting that seemed to numb the pain of the hell that was her life. She was skinny cause she couldn't always afford enough food and had angry red scars and burns running up her arms and legs. She didn't even bother covering them anymore, it wasn't like there was anyone who cared about her or even noticed. The only thing that mattered at the club was her chest, though she was practically a stripper, she still held on to one thing; her virginity. She didn't know why she cared anymore, but it seemed like possibly the only valuable thing she had left, then she looked down at her boney body and small boobs, not to mention all her scars.

_No, it wasn't valuable. No one would want anything so damaged._ With that thought she laid back down on her pillow and let the numbness wash over her like a warm blanket and for that moment she was at peace.

_**Jace's point of view.**_

Jace gazed out the glass wall of his pen house apartment. It was a clear night and he could see all the lights of the New York skyline as well as the Hudson River. He used to love this view, but now he felt trapped, but no one knew that.

He turned back to his big bed. It was sleek with a black head board and white sheets. His decor was simple and clean lined. He liked it very clean and had gone through many maids since none of them could seem to get it right.

His eyes landed on his newest play thing. She was a victoria secret model he had met at a marketing party a few weeks ago. Her name was Izzy Lightwood. She had sleek black hair which was draped over the curve of her thin back. Anyone could see how beautiful she was, but to him she was just another girl; a means to an end. His father, Valentine had always said everything went better with a woman on your arm, the prettier the better. Because of that, Jace was careful to always have a woman with him when he went to fundraising events or any other work functions. It wasn't like this was a challenge for Jace. He was 6'2 and lean with toned muscles along with golden hair and eyes to match. He was very used to being called gorgeous.

Since his father's death two years earlier, Jace had run his father's business, which was really more like an empire, Morganstern Industries. They had ties to everything from the mob to the Whitehouse and it was now Jace's job to oversee its massive growth in his father's stead. He always knew this was where he would end up from an early age. When he wasn't at the premier prep school he went to, he was being tutored at the estate. Valentine was a rigid man, and you had to be in business, but Valentine took it too far. He would always beat Jace and his mother Celine. If Jace didn't make captain of the football team or his mother embarrassed his father at a party, luckily though these mistakes didn't happen often. They were always careful to watch their actions. Izzy's voice freed him from his internal monologue.

"Come on back to bed, hotstuff." She said, her voice still hindered by sleep. Jace returned to bed, Izzy's lustful blue eyes watched him closely. He laid on the other side of the bed, though they were almost close enough to touch, it seemed as if there was an endless gap between them. Jace had never liked other people in his bed. He enjoyed the sex, but that was about the only thing about relationships that appealed to him, his iced over heart refusing to ever let anyone in. He heard Izzy sigh in what seemed like frustration. "_Time to look for a new arm decoration", _he thought to himself. It always happened this way. The girls came running towards his looks and wealth, they would have a little fun and it would be over. This relationship was no different, and no relationship ever would be. That is what Jace believed.


	2. Chapter 2- chills

**I am mega excited about this chapter and i really hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! **

**disclaimer; in chapter one. **

**_Clary's point of view._**

The blaring music and dizzying strobe lights, along with ecstasy and other drugs all the party-goers were on made Pandomonium a scene to behold, even on a Thursday night. Clary stood behind bar in purple and black flower-like lace dress, or was it a shirt? She was talking to a regular named Sebastian. He had white hair and black eyes that sent chills up Clary's spine even through the haze of the bourbon he had been nursing all night.

"ready to come home with me yet, clary?" attempting to touch her face. She hated when they talked her. It reminded her of her first boyfriend in highschool, Jon. He was possessive and abusive, she ended up having to move to the city to get away from him, but not before he vowed never to let another man have her. She prayed everytime she passed a dark alleyway that the city was big enough to keep him away. Unfortunately it was her job to be nice to them.

"Sorry honey, I can't tonight, maybe another time?" she said, winking at the drunken man and slowly pulled her face out of his grasp to go help another costumer.

Clary pulled her long black jacket over her shoulders, bracing herself for the late fall cold that awaited her outside. Her shift had ended at four, but she had waited an extra ten minutes to meet with the bouncer before she went. He was a large Latino man with shelves of tattoos running up both arms onto his neck. He was her latest supplier. She rolled the white pills around in her deep pocket as she walked down the dark street. She could hear footsteps behind her and scowled herself for being nervous. _This is New York, there are __**always**__ people walking behind you! _But she couldn't stop the shiver from running up her spine. It reminded her of a certain pair of black eyes. As she listened to the footsteps drawing closer, she clutched the pills tighter. It took half her measly pay check to buy this month's supply [which never lasted the whole month anyway] and she would not have it stolen! Internally cursing herself for forgetting her switch blade at "home". Clary let out a shriek as she was dragged into an alley by a strong pair of hands. She kicked his shins and bit his hands but nothing seemed to make a difference, he was too strong. Her feet got caught on a piece of metal wiring on the ground, pulling on of her heels off and ripping her tights. _Just what she needed to be mugged and have to buy new shoes. This was definitely her nig-. _She thought before he shoved her up against a brick wall, cutting her off. It gave her a chance to see the face of her attacker.

**_Sebastian! _**She composed herself as much as possible in this situation, she half spat, "what do you want Sebastian?" her eyes filled with a combination of hate, disgust and terror. There was no way she could fight him off. She was 5'3 and barely weighed a hundred pounds.

"I thought I told you that you were coming home with me tonight" his booze stained breath making her sick as it washed over her face.

"What are you talking about?! GET AWAY FROM ME!" she screamed trying to push him back, but he didn't move an inch.

**_Jace's point of view._**

He didn't know how he had ended up in this part of town; he had just kept walking for what seemed to him like hours. Jace was just in one of those moods where he couldn't stand the sight of his pent house, or his car or even himself. _Why did I have to be Jace Morganstern? Wouldn't someone else be happier with what he had? _His thoughts were scattered when he heard a piercing scream. He heard a woman yelling at someone to get away from her, normally he wouldn't care. That kind of thing happened all the time in New York, right? But there was something about this voice that made him wish she were talking to him. He turned to see what was happening down the alley. There was a small woman being pinned down by a much larger man, she was pushing against him and trying to get away with all she had, but he could see right away she had no chance of escape.

"Come on Clary… I'll make you feel real goood." The man slurred. _Clary, _what an interesting name he thought to himself.

"No!" she slapped the man and he pinned her hands above her head. _Are you really going to let this happen he asked himself? _With that thought he approached the two.

**_Clary's point of view._**

Her hands were pinned above her head, she couldn't move an inch. She knew what was going to happen. The last thing she held onto was going to be taken away from her, ripped away from her! Right when Seb began to pull up her dress, she saw a flash of good and suddenly Sebastian wasn't on top of her anymore. She didn't stop to think about it or see who the gold hair belonged to, she just ran. She forgot about her shoes and everything else. She just ran until she hit her apartment.

**_Jace's point of view._**

The minute his fist connected with the man's face, the girl, Clary bolted. She had flowing crimson hair. It was beautiful. When the man hit the ground Jace knew he was out cold so he ran back to the end of the alley to see if he could still see her, but she was long gone. However, he did notice a small piece of paper on the ground. He picked it up and when it turned it over he could see that it was a pay check. It was made out to a _Clarissa Fairchild. _Clarissa… Clary. It must be hers. Much to his disappointment it didn't have her address or anything on it so he could return it, but he did notice a name in the upper left-hand corner.

**The Pandimonium Club. **

He had heard of it. It was close to where he was and had a bad reputation or so he had heard from some gossip at a fundraiser with the NYPD last month. He didn't know where she lived, but he knew where she worked. It was a start.


	3. Chapter 3- vulnerable

**Hey guys! i'm sorry you had to wait longer, but i had several requests to make my posts longer, so i hope the trade off is worth it! C:**

**songs for this, they aren't necessarily to the story but they are what i am listening to at the moment.**

**burn it down; linkin park**

**sunday bloody sunday; U2**

**marchin on; one republic**

**enjoy! E:**

**disclaimer in chapter one.**

**_Clary's point of view._**

Clary was actually happy to see her little apartment for the first time since she moved in when she walked through the door. She looked down at herself to assess the damage. Her tights were ripped, she was missing her black heels, her dress was raked up past her waist and her hair was a complete mess from running seven blocks. She dug into her pockets to make sure she still had everything and to her relief she felt the pills rolling around in the deep woolen pocket, but something was missing. And then it hit her! Her pay check! She had put it in her other pocket, but it wasn't there. She looked around on the ground, her other pockets, everywhere, but it was nowhere to be found. Upon closer inspection, she noticed a small hole in the bottom of her pocket. _Just fucking great. It could be anywhere in the goddamn east village by now. _She hit her head against the wall and sunk down to the floor against the door with her head in her hands. _What am I going to do! I have no money! How am I going to eat… _Not being able to face those problems after almost being raped, she pulled twice as many pills as usual out of the little baggy and threw them all in her mouth at once, swallowing hard. She washed them down with some vodka and laid down on her bed, not really caring if she would ever get up again.

**_Jace's point of view._**

Once he was back at his pent house, put the check down on his big mahogany desk and stared at it. _What was she doing right now? _He wondered. _Was she upset? Freaking out about being attacked or losing her money? _He was caught by the overwhelming desire to comfort and protect her. Hold her fragile body as she cried into his shoulder; give her all the money in the world so she would never have to degrade herself in a dress like that again. He was very conflicted, he had never felt anything like this before. He never cared whether Izzy got home safe or not; never wondered what she was feeling, if she was okay? Happy or sad. None of that had ever mattered to him better. What was it about that crimson haired beauty that evoked so many new emotions? He was around beautiful girls all the time, he was dating a victoria secret model for fuck's sake. It didn't get sexier than that. But when he laid awake in his bed staring at the ceiling above him, it wasn't Izzy he thought about. It was what it would feel like to have Clary breathing softly next to him. But he didn't want to just fuck her like every other girl he was with. He wanted to hold her, wrap her small body into his, protecting her from the evil of the world; her enchanting voice lulling him to sleep. He closed his eyes that night feeling things and thinking of things that had never once crossed his mind before.

**11:06, **Jace felt a small flash of panic as realization washed over him. His lunch meeting started in 9 minutes. "SHIT!", he swore to no one. He tried to jump out of his bed, but his foot got caught on the sheet and he fell to the floor, despite his usual agility. He heard the doorbell from his awkward perch on the floor and remembered that he was supposed to pick up Izzy a half hour ago. He pulled on a pair of pants from the floor and opened the door. In contrast to his disheveled look, she looked put-together and beautiful. She stormed in.

"What happened to picking me up, Jace? Slipped you mind?" she shouted at him, noticing his appearance.

"What are you wearing? You don't honestly think you can take me out looking like that do you?" Jace could see the fire in her eyes, he had liked her passion when they had first met; made her fun in bed [;)], but right now he couldn't stand it.

"What gives you the right to talk to me like that, women?" He snapped and slapped her across the cheek. The moment his hand made contact with her face he regretted it. He sunk to the floor and couldn't help but think how like Valentine that was. Hitting a woman was something he had sworn never to do from the first time he had seen his father hit his mother. When his father had seen his ten year old son's face he had told him… "You are a man and you are always superior to a woman, women are only here for men's enjoyment. Always remember that son." Prior to that moment he had believed everything his father had told him, but the terrified look in his mother's made him pause. The sound of Izzy's voice made him snap out of his reprieve.

"Jace…?" she looked more startled by the sight of him rocking on the floor than the red hand print on her cheek.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Isabelle. I…I…I don't know what happened. Are…are you okay?" He actually began to cry when he peered at the young woman's face.

"Jace, it's okay. I promise." She rubbed his back slowly as he rocked back and forth on the floor.

"No…no it's not, I'm just like my father. He was always like that, I promised I wouldn't. I promised Izzy!" Izzy was taken aback by how upset he was. Sure she had been hit before, but her other boyfriends had never reacted like th-.

Her thoughts were cut off by Jace's mumblings. "She would never like me. I don't know what I was thinking." He whispered to himself. Izzy was confused, everyone liked Jace, if it wasn't for his money it was for his looks. Izzy was beautiful, but she wasn't stupid enough to think she was Jace's only girl. It wasn't like she was exclusive either. She had been banging her manager Simon for over a month now.

"Jace, what are you talking about?" he didn't respond right away.

"Izzy, I think you should leave. I need to be alone for a while." he stood up still shaking lightly and laid back on his bed.

Izzy didn't feel like she could leave him like this. She had never seen him so upset; he was always so composed when she was with him. She walked over to the bed and laid down next to him.

"Jace, did something happen? You want to talk about it? I know this isn't like you." She held his hand. He reminded her of her younger brother Max when he was still alive. Her brother had died of leukemia when he was nine. She remembered laying in his hospital bed and reading him stories, stroking his hand in hopes to keep his young mind away from his imminent death. Jace's vulnerability reminded her of those times and she was hit by an overwhelming urge to comfort him. He turned his head and began to speak.

"Izzy, I saw something last night. There was this girl and she was getting attacked, I don't know what it was about her, but I just had to protect her, but when I freed her, she ran. I need to see her again. Can't you help me Izzy? I know this isn't fair to you and that I have been a terrible boyfriend, but I just can't do this alone, please." Izzy saw something in her boyfriend's eyes that she had never seen before. He was worried, scared even. What choice did she have, even though those feelings would never be directed at her, who was she to say no to someone who so honestly needed a friend.

"Do you know anything about her? Any way to find her? A name." she asked softly, careful not to sound like she was belittling him in his already weak state.

"She dropped her pay check when she ran last night. Her name is Clarissa Fairchild and she works at the Pandemonium club." Izzy recognized the name. Her father was part of the NYPD brass and he spoke about a case at the dinner table once. There was a fire that killed a married couple, the news said it was an accident, but the police secretly suspected the daughter, but they didn't have any proof. Izzy couldn't bring herself to tell Jace though, and break his fantasy of this girl.

"Well that's a start." She said softly. "If you have her money, you have to find her quickly. I'm sure she's very upset." Izzy knew Jace didn't know anything about not having money, but she did. When she was born, her dad was a beat cop and they lived in a small apartment. This girl didn't have a family and Izzy was pretty sure Clarissa didn't have any other family.

"Well looks like we're goin' clubbin' tonight, huh Jace." She smiled as Jace's face lit up.

They laid there for a long time, by the time Izzy looked out the window it was dark. The lights of the city were sparkling.

"Hey Jace, want to get dressed? We can go see if she is there. Sound good?"

"Thanks Izzy." He smiled at her for the first time today, in all the time they were dating he actually smiled at her. It wasn't a seductive grin or a sarcastic smirk, a clean, innocent smile.

"I have to go home and get dressed, wanna pick me up in an hour?" Izzy said as she put on her shoes.

"I'll be there, wear something sexy for me, will ya." Jace winked at Izzy and she knew he was back to his old self, _too bad_, she thought. Hitting her again that that sweet vulnerable man from before would never belong to her.


	4. author's note

i am _soooo _sorry for how long i have been making you guys wait for the next chapters. i just moved home from boarding school this week and took exams so it has been a LONG week and a half to say the least, but now i am home and i have some free time so i will have something for you guys by normal human functioning hours :P

-ren out. C:


	5. Chapter 4- thought of tomorrow

**_I'm am so sorry, i have gained so many great readers and i regret so much how log it took me to get something out, but it is just getting harder and harder to be creative these days. i find i can only do it in the middle of the night after i have already been awake way too long. I'm a bit of an odd ball, i only sleep every other day. I know it is unhealthy, but it is really how i function best. Well here is the next chapter. hope you love it and have perverted [preferably yoai filled ;)] dreams about it! :P jk. yoai is the bomb though. 3 -ren._**

_Warning; this is a graphic chapter due to detailed self-harm. If that disturbs you, please refrain._

The continuous ticking of the large grandfather clock in the corner of Clary's little studio irritated her for the first time. The clock was awkwardly large for the small space, like Alice after taking a drink or like a dark shadow figure looming over her. The clock was a waste of space and space was something that definitely came at a premium for her, but she just could not bring herself to let go of the old timekeeper. It was one of the few things Jocelyn and Luke had left her when they were stolen and normally the tick would bring her peace. It was a constant and reminded her that no matter what happened to her, time was time and absolutely nothing could change that, but beyond that it held a deeper meaning; the beat of her father's heart as she lay her head down on his chest. They were watching tv, she remembers the comfort she used to find in that sound, so strong, unwavering. At the time it was as deep as she had ever had think into what it meant to be forever. That was a time when everything was bright for her, she had just been accepted to NYU's art school; her dream school. Nothing bad had ever happened to her, the worst thing in her life up until then had been the death of her childhood cat, Chairman Meow. She never thought those tragedies that plagued the news could ever reach her. She was wrong. She was always wrong. She thought if she put up a wall she wouldn't get hurt, but just look what happened with Sebastian. He had seen right through her wall to the meek, cowering little girl inside. She was pathetic, he saw that and she was scared. How would she go back to the club now? What if he tried again? what could she do? Clary hated thinking about her problems. She would much rather drown them away and pretend they didn't exist. She grabbed her pills and her knife all the tools she would ever need to run away. Ever since the first time she had spilt her own blood, she couldn't stop thinking about how much she loved everything about it. It was as if with the crimson fluid that flowed from her took her troubles with it. For that moment as she watched herself bleed she didn't have any problems, but then it would stop. A clot. Her love for running blood was matched by her hatred for the disgusting jelly like clump, to her that clump represented the fact that her ever present problems would surely always come back to put a stop to any happiness she would ever find. _How sick. _She said to the old clock. She wondered what would happen if anyone ever saw what her body actually looked like. Her malnourished boney frame was laced to the brim with angry red scars. There had come times in the past when she had so many wounds on her body at once that she would begin to just cut over them, resulting in a labyrinth of pain that reached every corner of her body. She had even become so angry once that she had cut her cheek. A scar she had planned to explain away by tripping and falling onto a coffee table, but no one had ever asked. It was a twisted cycle, she would hide her scars, making sure no one would see them and then get upset that no one ever seemed to notice them.

Clary didn't go to the club that night, calling her boss with some made up excuse. She was hungry, but since she had lost her pay check, she had no money to eat, though even when she did have her paycheck it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for her to go hungry for a day or two. It often come down to drug money or food money and one always won out. Ignoring her growling stomach, she forced herself to get up and go over to her work desk to do something productive. As see stared down at some of her resent works, which were growing increasingly dark, she had to fight off tears as she thought of the dreams of the art career she had wanted so badly. She had always dreamed of a sunny apartment overlooking water with an entire room just for her work. That had been her dream life just two short years ago, but as each passed those dreams became more and more fleeting. She was always forced to rip herself from her day dreams and pushed to face the reality of her world. Her world was a small studio apartment, which was really just a room with a mini fridge and a portable stove top. There was one small window, which overlooked an alley filled with dumpsters. There probably wouldn't be a window at all if a fire escape weren't required. She was defined and confined by those four walls. The disparity of it made her think back to her suburban family home. It looked like a model home for the model family and they really were. Jocelyn and Luke had married right after high school, he had been the quarterback of the football team and she was the head cheerleader. Shortly after their marriage at eighteen Jocelyn had found herself pregnant, but unfortunately Luke had already joined the army. It was a hard two years for her, but when they were reunited a bright life began to form with their little green eyed girl, they had named Clarissa. Luke had become an accountant and Jocelyn stayed home and raised her little girl in utter bliss. The three had lived happily together for eighteen years, when Clary had excitedly started college just a short half hour drive from their home in a New Jersey suburb. Clary was a 20 year old, loving life, when she got the call late on a Wednesday night. She had always hated Wednesdays. _Ms. Fairchild? There was a fire. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your parents… are dead. _A simple minute phone call had ended her life as she knew it. Her parents had left her some money, but it wasn't nearly enough to continue at college, so she was forced to drop out, soon without a job, she had spent all the money and was forced to start waitressing, but she was soon fired. That cycle was repeated for over a year and a half until she landed her job at the club. As much as she hated the job, she couldn't help but think she was a little bit lucky, it could have been worse, she could be dead on the streets somewhere. She paused when she had thought, no, dead wouldn't be worse, nothing was worse than right now and the thought of tomorrow.

**_Jace._**

A few minutes after Izzy walked through the door Jace began to panic. He wasn't ready to see her. The more time passed the more he knew he wasn't ready to face the girl that, in his mind was an angel, the perfect image of purity. Maybe he was idealizing her a little too much he though. She was working at a seedy club and in a bad part of town, late at night. Jace, never having to worry about money himself, naturally had some trouble understanding what lengths some have to go just to get by. He walked over to his grand mahogany desk and picked up his phone.

He dialed Izzy's number. "Hey Izzy, it's me. Change of plans."

"What?" she questioned.

"We're not going out tonight. I realized I want to get a little more background on this girl before I go to that sketchy club, I might catch some kind of poor people's disease." He laughed, meaning it as a joke, but Izzy felt a wave of disgust wash over her.

"Whatever." She said shortly, hanging up. She had intended to try to talk him out of the idea of researching her, wanting to protect him from what she knew he would find. Screw him. it would probably do him good not to be sheltered for once.


	6. chapter five razzle, dazzle time, baby

_So like i am crazy sorry for this late post. I doubt any of y'all even remember it, but what the hell, you know? it's 3:22am and i can't fucking sleep, so like why not try to work on this sucker. It's been a while so i tried to go a little longer than usual, i hope there are still some readers out there who will look forward to this and read it, cause that always makes little ol' me real happy. C:_

_what was i listening to... if anyone cares. __**make love **__by daft punk or and i thought __**isabelle**__ by gregory and the hawk was really fitting for this chapter and chapters to come. of and __**a wish**__, also by g&h. hope you enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter five.**

Jace scrolled through the results for the Google search he had just done on _Clarissa Fairchild,_ there wasn't anything of interest or that seemed to be about the right girl until he scanned the title of a small New Jersey newspaper article called, "Model Family Burnt to the Ground, Daughter to Blame?". When the link opened he saw a picture of a tall blue eyed man with his arm around a beautiful red haired woman, both smiling. As he scrolled farther he saw small girl with the same unnaturally beautiful crimson hair as his Clary, except this girl was a few years younger, with a very girl-next-door kind of cuteness. As he read the article, he found that the couple had been burnt to death in a massive house fire, the only survivors being a large grandfather clock and their daughter, Clarissa Fairchild. It continued on about the fact that the police had suspected Clarissa from the start, who was supposedly supposed to be home that night, but had failed to arrive. They were unable to produce enough evidence to arrest Clarissa, though they questioned her on multiple occasions. According to a source close to the family, the stigma of the accusations were enough to cause her relatives to disown her, as of now her whereabouts are unknown.

_Could that really be her? H_is angel? No, no she must have some sort of explanation, he just knew it! There is no way his perfect woman could have done such a thing. Maybe the newspaper made a mistake and it was another Clarissa. He would have his secretary call in the morning to get more info. Though the more he thought about it, the more it made sense, it would explain why she worked at that shitty club, in that awful part of the city. It made him want to help her, to hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay. Jace promised himself one thing, from that day one, he would always protect her and she would never be alone again.

**_Isabelle._**

What was it about that girl that enthralled Jace so? She wasn't a sublime beauty, or did she have a model body like Izzy did. She was just a small, little thing with wildly red hair. When Izzy got back to her trendy SoHo loft, she had pulled up a picture of Clarissa on her laptop. She could had been staring for minutes, or hours she couldn't tell, she just had to know what Jace saw in this girl, it had to be something astonishing to capture the heart of New York's biggest playboy and she just couldn't let it go. What did Clary have that she didn't?

Izzy thought back to the dinner when she had first heard the name some two years earlier.

_"How is work going for my most beautiful daughter going?" Robert, her father asked. _

_"Really well daddy! I got to be in a major commercial today! And you won't believe who I met." _

_"Who honey?" Her mother asked._

_"Heidi Klum!" At that time, Izzy was just starting out with Victoria Secret and was still excited to go to work every day, not that she didn't love her job now, but she was slightly more hardened after having not a single date since, without her date knowing what she looked like in her underwear. She had grown used to it though. Men would do it either way anyways. _

_"Well daddy, who was work for you? Any big cases?" She asked Robert._

_"There is one case that causing the squad a bit of trouble. Remember that couple who died in that fire a few weeks ago? Well, we aren't sure it is an accident. The daughter has quite a few inconsistencies in her story. She is a girl around your age, named Clarissa Fairchild and we think she killed her parents, but we have no proof." She could see the troubled look in her father's eyes, this cases was really nagging him. She looked around the table at her mother and father, she was an only child, and she couldn't imagine ever even thinking of hurting them, not after they had taken care of her all her life, even her hamster Max. She treasured all of them. Well that girl must have had a reason, right? _

_"Why did she do it daddy?" desperately wanting to know what could drive a girl the same age as her to destroy her entire family. _

_"That is what we don't understand. There was no reason why she would do such a thing, she didn't gain anything from it, no money, no property, nothing. I guess she always could just be crazy, even though her parents did everything right." Could someone who really should be completely happy really be crazy?! So crazy that she would burn her one and only parents alive? Izzy just couldn't fathom that level of imbalance and hatred in a person. Maybe it was an accident? Fires happen, right? _

_"Could it have been an accident, daddy? There doesn't always have to be a bad guy, right?" Izzy smiled at her father; smiled a smile that had not yet learned that in live __**there was always a bad guy.**_

Will Jace be okay?! Now that she thought about it. Jace was infatuated with a murderer! There's no way she could let that happen. What if Clary burned him to death one day too?! She had to tell him, she just had to, before anything bad happened. She would have to go see Jace right away, right now! Then she froze. She and Jace had never had that kind of relationship. She was always the cool girl who was cool with anything without getting to clingy or emotional. She had always acted that way around Jace, thinking that is what would make him stay with her longer. She knew that he was that kind of guy. He had never shown any special interest in one girl over the other, not at least during the time that she had known him. It was two years now since they had met, well since she met him. He probably didn't remember, scratch that. There was no way he remembered her from back then. It was when she was younger, softer. She was so excited that her career was blossoming. She was invited to a party, her first official party where she would be one of the models. Not just some girl tagging along. She had spent all day, no, all week getting ready. Getting her hair done, her nails done, her wax done, buying a dress, well maybe five, but one had to be prepared right? It reminded her of getting ready for prom, not that she ever went to prom. Not that boys didn't like her, they had always liked her, but she still believed in love when she was that age. She was adamant about not going unless she loved the guy who asked her. Of course that never happened, but she felt like she finally had another chance to enjoy that special night she had never had. She decided to wear a black dress, very simple, with a slit up one side and a little bit of detailing around the long cut. Black stilettos even though she was 5'8 already, daring red lips and a curled bun that left a few strands hanging down her back and framing her facial structure, she looked glamorous. She didn't use that word often, but she really felt a star right out of the raggin' 20's was looking back at her. She was nervous on the way there. She was riding in a limo with three other models, who had all been working much longer than her. What if she did something wrong? What if they had made some mistake and she wasn't actually supposed to be there?! And how you would think that one of the more experienced girls would comfort her, knowing her pain all too well… it never happened. They didn't give a shit about her, nor did two out of the three even know who she was and the only reason one of these huge international super models knew who she was, was because the woman had been forced to show Izzy around her first shoot, very begrudgingly at that. The modeling world was a harsh, harsh place, where the failure of a friend meant the success of yourself. Even though she knew she didn't belong here and was only here because one of the heads of the modeling sect of her agency had taken a liking to her looks and modeling style. Despite all the things that should have made her dread for this night, she just shake the excitement that was dancing in the bottom of her stomach. The moment she stepped out she was hit up the light. Not by the light of the thousands of cameras going off in her face but the light of the man who greeted and escorted the leading model into the party. He was dazzling, astonishingly so and she worked with the most beautiful people in the world. He just seemed to glow, like there was a whole nother world by his side. She was so distracted that she had to scramble out of the limo so to not be driven away with, all but forgotten as the cameras followed the other three girls into the building. Even with the hurt of knowing she had no place being there, she couldn't help being happy once she was enveloped by the lights and music and just feeling of being somewhere special, somewhere she had worked to be.

Though she didn't really have anyone to talk to, she still got a drink and explored, hoping to find someone she knew. Even if she didn't have anyone to share the party with she still found a seat and thoroughly enjoyed watching everyone, having confidence that if she worked hard enough all those people would gather around her. This sparkling, enchanting world, would be her world, not only would she be there, but she would be a part of it, the center of it. The night continued about the same for her. She drifted, stealing the occasional snack or drink, chatting with a few people she had met before. While she was standing toward the side of the room, wondering if it was time for her to go home yet, or even how she would get home. Who was going to take her? Was she supposed to wait for the others?! She began panicking, wondering why no one had told her what to do. It wasn't like she could just get up and ask! Just as her panic attack was about to get out of control, someone touched her back. "Don't worry so much, beautiful. Life is better when you let it do the driving. She could just barely see the shine of his smile before he turned around and out of her life.

* * *

_oh, also guys, you know if you care. i saw the first mortal instruments movie trailer today. totally goddamn RUINED my supernatural marathon. i am so angry at those stupid little fucking meehhh. i just have no words. eins! Jace looks like a fucking crazy fresh out of the coocoo's nest! i mean jesus, could he please just look a little more like the jace we all know and love. zwei! the beginning was like so fucking off. like since when does jace come to her with this fucking "you have an amazing gift shit" like a fricking lapdog! not in the beginning i remember. goddamn drei! what happened to clary's like beautiful locks that looks like the fucking fire of the phoenix taken human hair form?!_

_i'm sorry guys, i know i never rant, but i just couldn't take it, like seriously, how much can you butcher one book! i have been dreading this moment since i heard the first rumors of a movie back in like fucking 2010!_

_i apologize again, rant over. ren out. _


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